


For the Sake of a Kiss

by TotalFanFreak



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Christmas Party, F/M, Gen, Kissing, Mistletoe, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:31:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8717563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotalFanFreak/pseuds/TotalFanFreak
Summary: For one of the few times in his life, Spencer Reid, just doesn't get it. What is the point of a kiss?





	

**“A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear.”**  
― Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac

Spencer sat back at his desk, observing the festivities around him. It was the annual Christmas party at the BAU, and, as tradition, everything was fun in the beginning. Until all the drinking started. Now Garcia was wearing one of those silly hats that held mistletoe over the wearers head, and was kissing everyone in the office. Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle, the spiked eggnogs always sent her over. But watching he couldn’t help but ponder – _what is a kiss_?

The answer, simple enough, two sets of lips touching. _But who even came up with such a thing?_ Again easy, the earliest recorded accounts of something alluding to a kiss were by the Vedas over three thousand years ago. _But…what was it for? What was the point?_ It seemed to be just another excuse to touch. Something Spencer only reserved for specific people anyways. But why touch there, yes, kissing had far fewer germs than touching of hands, but why would someone just place their mouth on another? It seemed to be the sort of thing people did just to acquire and add up like a score card amongst their peers for the most part. It was intimate to some, and nothing to others. Some would kiss like it their lives depended on it, savoring that one touch from that one person like it was oxygen. For others kissing cheeks, hands, even lips to anyone who greeted them. It was one of the few things on this earth Spencer Reid could not fathom.

He had kissed, and he had been kissed. He had always kissed his mother’s cheek, had been kissed by Lila, and, yes, both of those affections were pleasant in their own way. But he couldn’t understand why. Of course he loved his mother and understood why a kiss farewell would symbolize something. But with Lila, was it the moment, was it because she was attractive, was it because he wanted to be wanted? He wasn’t sure.

“Why are you sitting here by yourself when a party is going on?”

His concentration broke as he looked up at you from his seat. He could feel his cheeks redden as he looked you over; it was odd seeing you out of your work clothes but seeing you decked in an oversized red wool sweater the pattern of white reindeers splattered across as it hit your thighs, tight blacks leggings and white fuzzy boots – it was nice. You were attractive regardless, but seeing you with your hair down instead of in a bun as it waved over your shoulders and the piece de la resistance, some goofy bell antlers Garcia must have snuck on you, he realized how much you shined. He had noticed your personality first; a mixture of Garcia’s bubbly exuberance, Emily’s snarkiness and sarcasm, and JJ’s mothering instincts, it all swirled together into something uniquely you.

“Spencer? You okay?”

He was staring and he shouldn’t be you were his friend, coworker, and all this thought on kissing is messing with his head. Clearing his throat, he sat up straighter.

“I’ve never really been a party person, especially when it comes with the drinking. Besides I’m afraid Garcia will attack me.”

They both turned at that, the bubbly blonde was currently placing kisses on Henry and Michael, both boys’ faces covered in the fire engine red lipstick, as she tickled them as they both wriggled in laughter.

“It’s sweet.”

His gaze moved back to you; your arms cross but a warm smile on your face as you watched.

“It is. She’s a good godmother.”

“And you’re a good godfather. Though I don’t know all of what you do in your spare time. You could be a Vito Corleone type of godfather in your off hours.”

He choked back a cough of laughter at that. “I’ve never made anyone sleep with the fishes if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would, that seems more like Rossi’s department to me. He’s got too much of that Italian swagger to not have a ring to kiss.”

_Kiss?_

“I-I was just thinking about that.”

You tilted your head in interest. “Oh? Rossi or – “

“No, kissing, I mean not me kissing or anything. I meant to say I was thinking of kissing because of the season, with mistletoe and everything.”

He knew he was talking fast; you were wearing that smile you always reserved for when he rambled or fumbled with his words.

“I know it originated from like Norse mythology, I think, it might’ve been the Celtics.”

“The Celts hung mistletoe to ward off evil spirits whereas the Norse saw it as a symbol of love and friendship. But it wasn’t until the 18th century when it was used in middle class England to steal kisses.”

“And how many have you stolen tonight?”

“Me?!? No, I haven’t taken any, I don’t know why you think – “

He stilled your hand brushing his shoulder in reassurance.

“I’m only teasing you, Spencer. Come on, let’s get you out of that seat. Maybe you’d dance with me?”

You were asking him to dance? If only you knew he had two left feet.

“I don’t think so; you might like to have your toes by the end of the night.”

You feigned a pout, causing the burn to come back to his face. Adorable, being the first word that entered his mind. “You’re not being fair. Come on, you won’t even have to move your feet, we can just sway.”

Spencer tilted his head, hearing the melody for Jingle Bell Rock playing and he couldn’t help but feel skeptical. But the soft smile and warmness radiating from you eased him. If you were willing enough to look like a dork, why couldn’t he?

“Oh, what are you two doing over here? Especially with no decoration.”

Spencer watched as Garcia approached you from behind, pulling you back to place a big kiss to your cheek, a perfect outline of lips remaining as she pulled away.

“Oh, my God, you’re so lucky this matches my sweater, Pen.”

“Twenty-four shade shield, my dear. Here let’s do swaps.”

Garcia switched your antlers for the Dr. Seuss looking mistletoe. “I know our good doctor here hasn’t had a kiss tonight, and I’m pretty sure he’d prefer to get one from you.”

He knew he was flaming in embarrassment, but seeing you shy up was something he wasn’t used to. The red tinge going from your face down your neck was nearly captivating.

“Well, that’s what we get when we think about kisses, Spencer.”

He knew you were trying to make light of it, take away the awkwardness, but the shade of red remained.

“Would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Since I am wearing this thing…would you, you know, want to kiss me?”

His mouth gaped. Did he? Then again would it mean nothing? A symbol of affection? He watched you looking at him in anticipation, and he wondered what you would feel as well. He wiped his palms across his pants.

“Um, sure.”

He already knew he was taller, he was taller than most people that worked here, but towering over you, and looking into your wide eyes he felt like he had shrunk.

“Do I kiss you or –“

“I think I’m supposed to kiss you since I’ve got the hat.”

“Okay –“

They fidgeted for a few more moments, before he heard you sigh, and with that he was sure you were going to walk away. Realizing the mistake you made. But then you were grasping his shoulder again, gaining balance as you tiptoed up enough to place your mouth on his.  
Oh.

There was a clicking inside his mind, like when he would put together links of clues from a case. It made sense. All of it. And when you pulled away he was almost desperate enough to bring you back up again the warmth and breath of you gone and leaving him chilled.

“Could I maybe…borrow that?”

You looked up at him in confusion, so he removed the headband himself, trying to keep any snags from getting in your hair. Placing it on his own head he heard you giggle, and he wanted to know what that sound would do when muffled with his lips. Pulling you up again, he placed them softly on yours, the laughter still not out from you and he could collapse as he felt the vibrations from you on him. It was a sharing, it was affection, it was life altering. He felt your fingers twiddle his hair and he allowed one of his own hands bury itself in your, and with that he had no idea if a moan was better than you laughing but he’d work day and night to find out.

“Way to go pretty boy!”

“Oh, but she forgot to put on lipstick.”

“I don’t think he minds.”

He could hear his friends like outside static around him, but it was as if the world had blurred, you the only image he could clearly see. Pulling back he waited for you to snap at him, tell him how inappropriate that was but you only gave a wisp of a smile.

“Not enough.”

“What?”

“It’s from a book I read. ‘If I kiss you all day, everyday, for the rest of my life, it won't be enough.’ I think that fits in here.”

He smiled at you. “I’d be willing to find out if you are.”

“Oh, I think we could find a way to arrange that, Spencer.”


End file.
